


Lack

by blueleaf_les



Category: The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen, Moria | Khazad-dûm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-07
Updated: 2020-07-07
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:46:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25125667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueleaf_les/pseuds/blueleaf_les
Summary: Before the Fellowship enters Moria, Gimli goes back to his childhood and adolescence memories about the person who taught him his letters and many other useful things - Ori. He’s impatient to enter Khazad Dum and meet his family, and especially to renew his bond with Ori, whom he’s been missing for years.The story begins with two lines taken directly from the novel, and ends with a reference to what happened before the Doors of Durin closed for good.
Comments: 5
Kudos: 8
Collections: Tolkien Gen Week 2020





	Lack

**Author's Note:**

> This fanfic explores the teacher-student relationship of Ori and Gimli. It was written (for the Drama) as an assignment for Tolkien Gen Week; I might write the second part soon.

‘But do not you know the word, Gandalf?’ asked Boromir in surprise.

‘No!’ said the wizard.

How great is my lack of surprise, Legolas thought. He closed his eyes and touched his forehead with his fingers, though he was really trying not to overreact, or at least not to show how much he was scared. He cleared his throat and started humming to himself very quietly.

Meanwhile Gimli fixed his eyes on the images that were visible on the closed doors. The hammer and anvil,the trees, the runes of power, the stars, the crown. He knew the design by heart. Ori’s described it to him so many times. There were many things Ori had described and explained for him. Objects, concepts, rites, maps, minerals, ideas. Every now and then Gimli was reminded of his time spent with Ori, because certain words were constantly taking his thoughts directly to the moment he heard them first: and Ori’s taught him many, many words. Ori, Gimli’s first teacher, his first authority and intellectual inspiration, was good at telling bedside stories for Glóin’s children, but he wasn’t telling them for the mere amusement. He was trying to make his listeners curious and inject the thirst for knowledge of the world into their minds. Soon he discovered Gimli was sensitive to visual aspects of the narratives, so he shifted from articulating the moral message to inventing symbols. It hasn’t always worked: what Ori mainly achieved was to make Gimli express the strong resolution to see everything that was being described for him: the dark paths of Mirkwood, the ornaments in Rivendell, the architecture of Hobbiton, the three trolls turned into the stone, and… and, amongst many others, the Doors of Durin.

When the Dwarves were preparing to send a host to Moria and regain Durin’s stronghold, Ori was engaged in gathering all information that could be helpful. He was especially interested in how the Doors of Durin looked, how they could be opened and what spells lie upon them. Gimli was always eager to hear what new he learnt, and was chiefly disappointed with how little of that there was. ‘And is it indeed that no one now knows the password?’ he remembered himself asking this question over and over again. He smiled, looking at the glowing signs carved in the stone. Thinking that the doors was all that barred him now from seeing his role model again, he felt warm. After so many years.

He’s already decided to tell Ori off for not sending a word for such a long, long time. So many things happened. They will have to spend a lot of time talking, as it used to be. ‘Could that be?’ Ori was always very patient with him. He would answer every question, even the most repetitive ones, in a very calm and caring manner. He’s never left any of his nephews and nieces without explanation. Gimli remembered his voice so clearly he would be able to recall it even now, has it not been for Legolas’s purring to himself.

Does this Elf always have to make noise, he though, biting his mustache. And what’s he singing? He listened. 'Words are meaningless and forgettable'? Really? Oh, never mind. This is some deconstructivist and pessimistic Elvish nonsense. Of course words are meaningful. Ori taught him that long ago, when he explained the power of language to him.

Gimli was initially prejudiced, because how can you trust in an Elvish invention. But now, when he was standing in front of the Doors of Durin, he had no doubt. Words can open any door. He felt so powerful, knowing that. That he can communicate with anyone, if he wants. He pitied Legolas. 'Words are very unnecessary, they can only do harm' - was he really believing in what he was singing? Gimli thought that when they meet Ori Legolas will know better. Ori will teach some sense into him.

‘Hey, Gimli’ he heard someone’s voice, and unfortunately it wasn’t Ori (could have been him; Gimli was sure that the inhabitants already knew about their coming), but Merry. ‘Don’t you really know the password?’ The hobbit looked at him with suspicion, and also hope. ‘You’re from the line of Durin, you could know…’

‘I do not’ Gimli replied, ‘but fear not, my friend. The hosts must have already sent the guards to greet us.’

‘What do you mean, they surely weren’t expecting us!' said Merry. He was patting his own shoulders to get warmer. Gimli lent him his coat - he was already feeling the warmth of the welcoming halls of Durin. How he yearned to finally see them!

'What I mean is: no fortress is left without wardens.’ He continued calmly. ‘I am convinced that we’ve already been both heard and observed by the watchers. If Gandalf doesn’t come up with the password this instant, the Doors will open from the inside for us.'

'But Gandalf said that the whole of Moria is not inhabited', noted Merry.

'Of course it is not.' Gimli stroke his beard and frowned, hearing another one of “words-are-very-unnecessary's” sung by Legolas. Those mantra-like sounds irritated him, but he contained himself easily: the thought of meeting Ori strengthened him. Ori will be so proud of his brightest student. Gimli relived the overwhelming joy of being praised for progress he made with Elvish alphabet. Sindarin used to be his most beloved field of study, as long as Ori was teaching him. After Ori’s left with Balin and the others, Glóin employed someone much less pedagogically skilled and Gimli hardly maintained the level at which Ori’s finished the classes. He also got more into domestic politics, geography and caring for his younger siblings, who were worse at coping with the loss of Ori and other uncles and aunts. Sometimes the thought that Ori would be disappointed with how he dismissed a laborious subject, and was studying the notes they made together. Even now he remembered that the declination of movement verbs was always on the left margin, to make them vividly distinguishable. Oh, Ori was a perfect teacher. He invented so many tricks to make vocabulary memorable. His voice conveyed so much emotion when he was lecturing Gimli and his siblings. He was always able to show that he cared, and Gimli was striving to learn that, too. So he patted Merry’s shoulder and continued:

'Moria’s deep and wide, and there are many corridors and halls, huge and representative but also some secret ones. So it is probably going to take a lot of time to get the message about us to the leader of the guards. They might be rather surprised with our coming, but they will certainly let us in.'

‘How do you know?’ Merry was still unconvinced.

‘My family lives there’ Gimli answered with a subtle smile. 'Would you doubt that one of your cousins would leave you standing in front of their doors?'

‘Well…’ Merry hesitated. ‘It depends…’

Gimli heard Legolas’s nervous giggle and another “Words are very unnecessary, they can only do harm”. He sighed. This lad may know Sindarin but he definitely knows not what an extended family is and how gratifying it is to have relatives. Another reason to pity him.

Suddenly Gimli thought that the hobbits had their Ori figure in person of Bilbo, Elrond could be one for Aragorn (oh, but Elrond was more like a foster father probably) and with Boromir it was not so easy to guess - but Legolas was the one who definitely had no Ori-figure in his life, and it showed.

And it also showed that Legolas was the one member of the Fellowship who definitely needed a teacher.

‘W’re makin’ a fuckin’ mistake’, murmured Legolas, looking around him with fear. Or more. Gimli frowned. More than one teacher. Has he ever been taught how to express emotions without cursing? So many hues of feelings could have been conveyed through words. Gimli smiled, remembering how Ori was good at that; in more than just one language.

‘Legolas, please’, Aragorn whispered. ‘Please stop. Your humming might disturb Gandalf.’

Gimli sighed. He was getting impatient. The sight of the inscriptions was wonderful, even more wonderful than Ori’s description, certainly more wonderful than any picture, but this could not replace the meeting with Gimli’s cousin. The Fellowship was tired, cold, frightened - Gimli couldn’t wait for everyone to get a warm place beside the fire, food in plenty and a huge mug of nourishing ale that brings cosy dreams and peace of mind.

And he was so anxious to see Ori.

The lack of news was really disturbing. For a moment Gimli thought that maybe his father’s unease about what could have happened down in Khazad Dum (legends, he said to himself, those are just legends!) was justified. He shook this suspicion off. Nothing bad could have happened to Ori. He wasn’t accepting the possibility that Ori… He wanted to tell him how he missed him, as his teacher and guide into the realm of knowledge. He imagined that after the guards talk to him and let him and his friends enter, they will be led to a neat chamber, given new clothes and food, and some time to catch breath, and then Balin and Ori and all the others will come, and…

‘Mellon!’ Gandalf exclaimed. The doors started to open. Gimli’s heart beat louder. In a brink of time, a farewell scene appeared before his eyes. After Ori’s had given him last advice, he hugged him and held him for a long while. ‘You’re very unique, Gimli. You’ll achieve all that you want. I am already sure of that. Do not doubt yourself, please. Don’t cry. You’ll do without me very well, laddie!’ ‘Oh, no I won’t… I’ll miss you.’ ‘I’ll miss you too. But think of that: when Moria is regained, cleaned and furnished, you’ll be more than welcome to stay with us. And we can continue our classes. I’m sure that by that time it would be you who’ll be teaching me, not the other way round!’ To the end of his days Gimli would remember the feeling of anticipation that accompanied him while he was looking at the company leaving Erebor.

He was constantly expecting to see Ori again, and now this would come true. He was ready to run into Moria, when he heard Frodo’s scream, and the events rolled so fast that his emotions couldn’t follow.


End file.
